With a Side of Flies
by Canadino
Summary: I don't really mind working...it's just when those two come that it becomes pretty unbearable. My good looks are obviously wasted on them. Sequel of sorts to Altered Beast. AU; suggested Ralph/Simon, implied Jack/Simon


**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: --

**---**

With a Side of Flies

Truth be told, I don't have it too bad. Besides going to a prestigious school this side of London (and being head choir boy _and_ fifth in my class, thank you very much), I'm a part-time waiter at a local family restaurant. Personally, I didn't think it would be exciting work letting other people tell me what to do, but it's not so bad. After all, I could be flipping burgers down the street like Roger – and come out smelling positively of grease. He doesn't mind it (and actually kind of likes it, strangely enough).

I mean, I'm pretty good at what I do. I paint on my most charming smile (which isn't that hard to do; I mean, us gingers are pretty good at being charming) and amaze the socks out of everyone I deal with. This not only makes me look like a sophisticated gentleman, but rings in the tips. Face it – the only reason why teenagers actually work is for the money, not for the 'work experience' or shite like that.

And, if I may say so myself, I don't look too bad in the uniform. Alright, I'll come out and say it; I look smashing. It's not just my mother who says it (and all mothers are required to say such things about their children; some grown-up lies I won't believe); some girls who come by to eat admire how I work this bartender-esque outfit of black tie and white shirt. It's honestly high class. It makes me feel older than that silly school uniform will make me feel, that's for sure.

In other words, I guess, going to work makes me feel good. I look good and I make enough so when I _do_ find someone to go on a date with, I won't look pathetic using my parents' money or skimpy using my own.

I was feeling completely fine when they walked in. The door opened, and I was going to greet them, but the cheerful banter just died in my throat.

The two boys I dislike most from school had come, and although we all consider ourselves friends, I think it's a term thrown around too loosely.

Let me explain.

Ralph – the most annoying, rude fourteen-year-old that lives in Great Britain. I do not know who made him think he is the greatest thing since gravity nor do I care. All he is is a bundle of trouble. I know for a fact that he joined the choir to get under my skin; and he does, on a daily basis. There is no respect for his elders in that boy; he continually refuses to listen to me and talks about me behind my back. Granted, I do the same, but I'm older and therefore have the right to say things about my underclassmen. Not only that, but he also talks to this kid we all refer too as 'Piggy' – frankly, because of his size. He thinks he's much better than me yet he hangs out with a crowd like the asthma-ridden fatty in his grade? I don't think so.

Simon – the most devilish twelve-year-old you will ever meet. I was introduced to him earlier in the year (he transferred around October and Ralph the Blonde Terror came a bit afterwards from Manchester) and he seemed like a nice little boy. He had a good voice and listened to me during choir. The choir director told me to 'show him the ropes' or something like that; because me being the oldest somehow means I need to baby-sit a quiet batty child who has some disease or something that makes him faint at random times. Then, around the same time Ralph came around, he did a complete 180 and revealed his true colors – a manipulative, _hardly_ quiet prat. He asks you to do things with a smile and you find yourself doing it. I don't know how it does it. He finds ways to insult you and you're not actually sure you've been insulted. Like I said, there's a reason I group him with Ralph.

And just because I tolerate them, they see that as a reason to group around me and call me their 'friend'. And somehow, this means they are my 'friends'. It's witchcraft that makes this so. I don't know sometimes.

"Hi, Jack!" Sure, Simon sounds nice and looks cute but when you've known him like I do, you know it's not a smile, but a smirk he wears on his face. Adults never think so; he always acts shy and docile in front of them, and everyone else who rarely sees him outside of school. As for me, I know better. Much better. He waves, but it's more of a mocking sort of gesture. I don't wave back.

"Table for two," Ralph said haughtily, taking in the scene like he's in charge of the place. "And make it a booth…cause we're friends, you know."

I really wanted to throw something at them. But that wouldn't be good customer service.

"Of course," I replied in my best got-it-under-control voice. "Would you like a kid's menu with that?" Subtle mockery works best in these cases.

"I'm not a kid!" Simon protested, before suddenly hopping up next to me and nearly choking me as he pulls me down by the tie. Whoever taught him such a flirtatious and deadly move ought to be shot, in my opinion. "But could you throw in a packet of crayons, please?"

"Booth," Ralph reminds me as I straighten up and collect the menus.

They sit down without further interruption, although the moment I walk away, they lean into each other and get into a whispering discussion while shooting me looks now and then. Wankers. I was just glad I was on greeter duty; the only times I would have to deal with them was when I led customers to their tables.

But obviously, with my luck, when I returned to the foyer, my manager was waiting for me with all his authority power and told me that stupid Butch Cassidy had gone home sick after puking over the fries in the kitchen (note to self, serve Ralph those fries) and he had to take in someone from the dining room into the kitchen and that I was to take that lucky soul's place. He had designated himself to greeter duty, which made me a bit more annoyed than I already was.

"But you're a great waiter," he said, clapping me on the back. "You'll do great out there, Merridew."

Fuck my life.

They sat in wait for me, and their predator grins greeted me when I walked up to their table. Anyone looking in would see Ralph acting quite normal, like he really was just a student at the restaurant and Simon smiling angelically like we really are best friends. But that's all a lie. I gritted my teeth and hoped it would be over soon.

"Welcome," I grounded out. "Would you like to start with something to drink."

"Usually, waiters introduce themselves and ask if you're having nice day first," Simon interjected. If the choir director wouldn't have my ass on the line, I would have tore out that brat's vocal cords right then and there.

"You both know who I am and I know you're having a great day coming to see me," I retorted.

"Fair enough," Ralph said, flipping through the menu. "Gin on the rocks."

"We don't serve alcohol here. And anyway, you're a minor." Ralph shot me a look of skepticism, like it's _my_ fault he's fourteen. Bloody gits. I tapped my pen against the ordering pad, hoping they would make up their minds, and fast.

"I want a soda, but in this order. I want one-forth of that cherry stuff, and three-eights of lemonade and one-sixteenth of root beer and um…the rest…surprise me." And he gave me another cute smile like that could suffice for all the effort I managed to put up with them.

"Those fractions are impossible," I grumbled, scribbling something down.

"Scotch on the rocks," Ralph chimed up again.

I don't know why I consider myself friends with them.

I was afraid they would order something ridiculous but both went with sensible dishes and it was actually quite painless for a moment. Then as I was getting tea out for some elderly women, Ralph waved me over with a bemused expression.

"Uh, Jack?" Beckoning at his sandwich, which looked _perfectly_ normal, Ralph shook his head. "Um…the tomatoes are a bit…what did you say they were, Simon?"

"Soggy," the dark-haired boy suggested.

"Yeah…soggy. They're too soggy. Could you get me something drier?"

Ralph was grinning and I knew if I let him get to me, he wouldn't let me live it down. "Maybe I should get you some napkins and you can soak 'em yourself."

"Ew! Do you know about the paper pulp that I might ingest!"

"That may or may not affect the size of your tip, Jack," Simon chirped. I glared at him and he just rolled his pretty eyes at me. I need to get a new set of adjectives. _Infuriating _eyes. That's it.

For some reason, after that, they let me off the hook. They didn't pay me any mind when I passed them afterwards, and in fact, the last time I walked by them, Simon was displaying his skills of spaghetti art to Ralph, who was helping him out with his own fork. I found myself without a thing to do; it had suddenly slowed and everyone eating seemed too engrossed in their own conversations to find something for me or anyone else to do.

I kept my eye on those two. They could always get up to no good if left to their own devices. The more I thought about it, the stranger it was. Ralph and Simon liked to spend time together at school, then with me after school, but I'd never actually seen them do something together. It was something insignificant like lunch, but it was odd all the same. Was there something going on between them? Were they planning something?

And anyway, of all the people to eat lunch with, Simon picks Ralph! I mean, Ralph gets in your hair and he's not even someone who you can hold a meaningful conversation with. I swear, that blonde has flies in his head. They're in the same building at school, and they've got more in common to talk about than I do, but the point is…Simon wouldn't have lunch with me like that, that's for sure. And I haven't the foggiest idea why! I'm not scary or anything, and he teases me all the time, but honestly…

It was kind of infuriating, actually.

They got some pie afterwards and Ralph let Simon have some of his. Oh, what a gentleman. Definitely that boy deserves the sort of attention he gets. I cannot imagine why anyone would think him pleasant over me. They've obviously never met the toad.

I didn't actually know who was paying, since they're both too young to work(and the hell it was on the house), but when I came over with the check, Ralph actually made a scene about paying for the both of them (as he should; no one should force a twelve-year-old to pay for himself on an outing). _Please_. No one wants to see his immature insistences and Simon definitely wasn't doing anything to stop him – the bugger was actually egging him on. What is this, some sort of hidden camera tryst? I wasn't sorry to see them go. As expected, they made a scene of that as well, cheerfully shouting farewells to me.

I swear those two bring out the worst in me.

I was cleaning up and noticed that they _had_ left me a tip after all; five quid under Ralph's cup made it a one-third percent tip – pricks. They'd probably expect me to owe them later. I found a folded piece of paper under Simon's cup and when I unfolded it, written in crayon was the message:

_Tip: if you want me to have lunch with you, all you have to do is ask. – Simon_

_PS – Ralph and I agree you look bloody fantastic in that outfit._

They're button pushers, I tell you. I pocketed the quid and crumpled the note, planning to toss it the moment I got the chance. I was going to tell them off for something, I was getting ready for it. I was in a bad mood for the whole day, even when the manager asked me why I was grinning like a maniac for.

It's kind of hard to figure out who I hate more; Ralph or Simon.

And that twerp better follow through on that statement, someone's just going to have to get it.

End

--

Note: Someone needs to tell Jack that it's not teasing, it's called flirting. Anyway, I need to name this AU. But waiter!Jack is moe, I think. For anyone who's interested, the side story comic of Jack's lunch with Simon is on Deviantart – the link can be found on my user page. I urge you to check it out please, because constructive criticism is good, even if you don't have a DA account. I want people to tell me if my Jack/Simon comic is good…! Review please!!


End file.
